


I Do (?)

by TheEffinMitchell



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fake Marriage, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Light Angst, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 07:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30051825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEffinMitchell/pseuds/TheEffinMitchell
Summary: Ava and Beatrice are getting married. Ava just doesn't know it yet.ORIn which Ava and Beatrice have been dancing around their feelings for years, and Beatrice is tired of waiting for Ava to figure it out. When the love of your life is as dense as the Amazon, subtlety is not the key.[REPOST]
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	I Do (?)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back.
> 
> Dedicated to Sam<3

Humans are hardwired to connect, drawn to one another by our own chemistry – our own biological design. We build and supplicate bridges between those around us, brain to brain and heart to heart. Humans need other humans, and if two lives are destined to touch, the universe will always find a way to make the connection. Across space, across time – even across heaven and hell, if two paths are meant to merge, the universe will find a way. 

_ Love  _ will find a way.

And if not? Well, Beatrice has her own ways of making things happen…

* * *

Ava’s eyes widen as Beatrice presents her a ring, gaze flickering between the piece of jewelry and the woman before her. Hesitantly, she takes the offered item and carefully holds it to the light, inspecting the diamond as it shimmers and sparkles. It’s almost blindingly bright and she has to blink several times as the gem flashes her in the eye. Handing it back, she fights the sudden urge to phase through the floor as Beatrice daintily slips it back onto her ring finger.

“Wow,” she says, an awkward laugh escaping her lips. “Wow… I don’t know what to say! Bea… y-you’re engaged? I didn’t even know you were dating someone!”

Beatrice flushes, eyes averted shyly. “Thank you, it’s a bit of a newer development. She and I have been… sort of together for quite some time now… never in any official capacity, but it was always something unspoken between us. It felt like the natural progression of our relationship.”

Ava’s heart does a strange sort of wriggle, as if physically squirming at the thought of Beatrice having some sort of secret relationship with anyone else but her. The whole “unspoken” notion is particularly uncomfortable, as she had always sensed there was more to her and Beatrice than either of them let on. They had never said the words aloud, perhaps each too afraid to risk disrupting what they already had going, but actions always speak louder than words and they had affirmed their feelings time and time again through countless selfless acts for the other. 

At least, that’s what Ava had assumed, but she supposes that age old adage had to come from  _ somewhere. _ To assume was to make an ass out of ‘u’ and ‘me’ and she was  _ definitely  _ feeling like an ass – a dumbass, if she’s being particularly honest. Swallowing down the sudden lump of emotion, she clears her throat and forces herself to smile.

“Congratulations,” she says, and it’s probably the most painful thing she’s ever had to say, “I’m so happy for you. Whoever she is… she’s very lucky.”

Beatrice gives her a look that’s a cross between exasperation and bemusement, a strange combination to say the least, but Ava is still too overcome with her own thoughts and feelings to notice. “I’m the lucky one,” she declares, and its like a knife straight through her chest. “Or, at least I will be if everything goes as planned…”

“What do you mean?” Ava asks, clearly confused. 

Beatrice’s words are said carefully, “My…  _ intended…  _ is currently out of the picture. She’s presently indisposed due to personal matters and won’t be available until the wedding itself.”

“Wait, seriously?” she asks, taken aback. Ava is no marriage expert, but she’s  _ pretty sure _ disappearing right after getting engaged is kind of a terrible way to start a lifelong commitment. "I mean, like… how far off is the wedding? Is whatever she’s dealing with so important it takes her away from her fiancé for… what? Months?”

“Only a week,” she corrects, and Ava isn’t sure what an aneurysm feels like, but the sudden pulsing she feels in her head is both worrying and questionable. “We’re getting married next Saturday.”

Ava isn’t sure how many more blows she can take. “Next Saturday?” she repeats, feeling suddenly faint, staring at Beatrice as though they had never met. “What’s the rush? I… I mean, I’m not trying to be rude or overstep, but I’ve known you for five – almost six years now, and I’ve never known you to act this quickly. You make plans on top of plans! This is… out of character, especially for you.”

“Do you object to my upcoming nuptials?” Beatrice shoots back, and Ava is quick to backpedal on her words, shaking her head as she tries to clarify.

“No! No, that’s not what I mean,” she apologizes, anxiously. “I just mean it’s… unlike you to act so impulsively. That’s sort of my thing, isn’t it?”

Beatrice laughs and smiles, eyes rolling with fond annoyance. “I suppose love does that to you.”

Ava’s heart stutters and then screeches to a halt. Subconsciously, she knew marriage equated to love, but to actually  _ hear _ Beatrice say it aloud is another thing entirely. It hurts, and not in the way she had imagined. She expects it to feel painful, like the time Adriel had speared her through the chest with her own sword, or pulverizing every bone in her body after Mary threw her off a cliff. Instead, it’s a bruise that doesn’t fade, dull and painful, and ever present. 

“I… I suppose it does,” she agrees, half-heartedly, face scrunching as she scratches her cheek to avoid looking too upset. “I mean, I wouldn’t know personally, but I think I understand.” 

“You’re not wrong though,” says Beatrice, “I do enjoy a good plan. And well, since we have so little time, I was wondering if perhaps you would help me?”

“What, like… your maid of honor?”

“No, unfortunately Camila already fought Mary and Lilith for that role,” Beatrice admits, rather embarrassingly. “I… _ think _ they’ll be released from the hospital just in time to make it to the wedding. But you’re my best friend, my… everything, and I could never imagine planning this wedding with anyone else but you.”

“... except your fiancé,” Ava adds, though it’s a question just as much as it is a statement.

Beatrice smiles pointedly, “Of course. So… will you help?”

And Ava, despite every instinct in her body screaming at her to say no… agrees.

* * *

Ava would never describe herself as a glutton for punishment, but wedding planning with Beatrice is a whole other level of masochism. The fact that she spends every waking hour of the next week orchestrating the ceremony and reception between Beatrice and someone else that  _ isn’t her _ isn’t entirely lost on the halo bearer, and she wonders who exactly she pissed off on the other side to end up in this exact situation.

_ ‘I killed a literal devil!’ _ she cries, silently bemoaning her fate as Beatrice drags her to a cake tasting appointment three days later.  _ ‘I saved the world! I hunt demons for a living! GOD himself literally said he owed me. And this is the thanks I get?’ _

“...Ava? Ava, are you even paying attention?”

“What? Sorry, I–” she’s abruptly cut off as Beatrice feeds her a forkful of red velvet, Ava having just enough sense of awareness to bite off a piece before she can accidentally get stabbed in the back of the throat. Beatrice laughs quietly and flips the fork around, placing the uneaten end into her own mouth. 

“It’s good, right?” she asks, as Ava chews thoughtfully.

“Mhmm… yeah, it is. Though I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the frosting might be a little too sweet?”

“The sweetness can always be adjusted,” the vendor promises, scribbling a note into her clipboard. “How is the cake?”

“Oh, it’s um… red, and velvety?” she replies, sharing a quick look with Beatrice. “Sorry, my palate is super basic. It’s good! But, uh… it’s really up to her. What do you think Bea? You like it? You think your girl would like it too?”

Beatrice hums, contemplating the flavor before deciding it isn’t for them. “No, I think we’ll try something else. I do agree, the frosting is a tad overpowering, and the cake itself isn’t anything particularly exciting.”

“Of course, we’ll just cross that one off the list, and… here’s our next sample, a simple vanilla cake with white chocolate frosting and raspberry filling.”

Ava grabs the next plate, cutting off a piece of cake and offering it to Beatrice. “Your turn,” she grins, playfully. Beatrice  _ smirks _ , and suddenly Ava is regretting this decision as they make and hold eye contact, gulping as the former nun wets her lips before leaning in to take a bite.

“Uh… h-how is it?” she asks, suddenly finding the floor pattern the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen as she lowers her gaze and stares at the ground. 

“Do you want to try?” Beatrice asks, innocently.

“Huh? Oh, sure! Y-yeah!” Ava stammers, shoveling the remainder of the cake into her mouth in a futile attempt at saving face. “I-it’s good! This is… really good! Yeah, definitely a winner!” she says in between awkward mouthfuls.

Beatrice grins, dabbing a napkin to her cheek as she wipes away a stray bit of icing. “We’ll put it on the maybe list. There’s still more to try. We’ve got the whole afternoon.”

“The whole afternoon? Oh… okay, yeah. Sounds good!” she murmurs, grabbing the bottle of water on the table and guzzling it down. Ava had barely lasted two samples; she hardly knows how she’ll survive a whole afternoon of them, especially if Beatrice pulls any more stunts like before. 

_ ‘Lord, I don’t ask you for a lot, but I think it’s that time I cash in that I.O.U.’  _ she thinks, as the vendor calls for her assistance to bring more plates.  _ ‘Take the halo back. Just… yank it! Yank it out! Right now! Do it!’ _

Unfortunately for Ava, the halo remains intact, fully embedded in her back where it belongs. She eats at least twenty more slivers of cake, deliberately forcing herself to focus on the task at hand, never once noticing the intentional way in which Beatrice watches. 

* * *

Despite being the bearer of a heavenly relic, Ava’s no saint. She knows it, acknowledges it, and will always be the first to admit that she’s done enough morally ambiguous things in her life to question her current status as a semi-divine being. That said, Ava isn’t entirely certain what she did to warrant her current predicament, and she’s beginning to wonder if this is some sort of punishment from the big guy in the sky. Punishment for  _ what  _ exactly, she hasn’t quite figured out yet, but she must have done  _ something _ to piss him off because this whole situation is starting to border on cruel and unusual.

“Someone please remind me why I’m doing this,” she grumbles, heaving an annoyed sigh as the tailor readjusts her stance for what feels like the hundredth time that day. She glares as he presses the tape measurer to her side, digging his thumb into her armpit as he drags the tape down and measures the length of her torso. “You could be a little more gentle,” she protests, as he gives her a bored stare.

He takes a few more measurements, scribbling them into a notepad before he waves dismissively towards the couch, indicating for her to take a seat. With a quiet huff, she plops herself between Lilith and Mary, careful not to jostle them in their injured state. Ava thought Beatrice had exaggerated when she said Camila had fought the two for the spot as Maid of Honor, but Mary still spotted a black eye, and while Lilith’s own powers had healed her, it was clear she wasn’t particularly thrilled to be near the smaller ex-nun right now.

They were only days away from the celebration, and the five had convened at the local bridal boutique to try on clothes for the big day. While there was no time for anything custom, they were at least able to put in a rush order to have things tailored to fit, and Camila had all but dragged Beatrice to look at wedding gowns the instant they arrived. When Ava attempted to follow, she nearly took a high heel to the face as Camila hurled it from a nearby display and threatened her with the other shoe.

_ “No!” she had hissed, shaking it viciously at the halo bearer. “No peeking! It’s bad luck to see the bride in her wedding gown!” _

_ “What? Why, I thought that only applied to the–” _

_ “Sorry, family tradition! Only the maid of honor is allowed to see it before the wedding day!” Beatrice had cut in, tearing the footwear from Camila’s grasp as she offered the other three an apologetic smile. “Actually, Ava, I was really hoping you would do me a huge favor? You’re about the same size as my fiancé… would you be willing to try on suits with Mary and Lilith?”  _

_ Ava didn’t even have the chance to reply, Beatrice breathing a rushed, “Thanks so much! You’re the best! Love you!” as Camila drew her once more towards the gowns.  _

“Seriously, this… this is kind of weird, isn’t it?” she asks, attempting to get some sort of reaction out of the older women. “Like, we are literally two days away from Beatrice’s wedding… we’ve never even  _ met _ the woman she’s engaged to, and we’re just putting this whole thing together in the  _ hopes _ she’ll be there when it happens? Isn’t  _ anyone _ suspicious something else is going on here?”

Mary and Lilith share a look over Ava’s head, neither willing to risk Beatrice  _ or _ Camila’s wrath as they quickly talk over one another in an attempt to steer her off course. 

“Nah, c’mon H! You’re reading into it way too hard!”

“It’s love. When you know, you know.”

“This is Beatrice, Ava.  _ Trust your team _ , remember? She knows what she's doing.”

“She’s a lesbian! These things just happen.”

Ava and Mary do a double take, turning as one to look at Lilith as she flushes brightly beneath their incredulous stares. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to generalize…”

Fortunately, she’s saved from further embarrassment as the tailor returns, carrying a small closet’s worth of clothes in each hand. He nods for Ava to get into the dressing room, handing her an outfit before shooing her behind the curtain to change. She goes through at least a dozen outfit changes before both Mary and Lilith agree on a suit they think fits, calling Camila over for the final say.

“Shouldn’t Beatrice be the one deciding this?” she asks, suddenly anxious beneath Camila’s scrutinizing gaze.

“She can’t see you in this before the wedding,” Camila clips, pointing out to the tailor where to make adjustments. “It’s tradition, remember?”

“Yes, but that only applies to–”

Camila’s eyes snap towards her and Ava immediately ceases her protest, sending a pleading look towards Mary and Lilith. Unfortunately for her, neither of them are willing to risk another visit to the hospital, both adamantly avoiding her gaze before rushing off to search for suits of their own. It isn’t entirely lost on her that everyone has been acting extremely weird around her lately, but she figures its because everyone else is pretty much aware of her unspoken feelings for Beatrice and are trying not to make this any more painful than it already is.

Despite the constant anxiety and hurt gnawing at her insides, Ava appreciates their joint efforts at not bringing it up. As awkward as they may be, she’s grateful they aren’t pushing her to talk about it, letting her cope at a pace that was best for her. As Camila waves for the tailor to start bringing ties, Ava decides that despite the difficulty of this whole thing, she couldn't ask for any better group of friends. 

* * *

Ava needs a better group of friends.

Or, at the very least, she needs to start branching out more. 

It's Friday night and they had finally cleared the final hurdle in the sprint that had been wedding preparations. Camila had immediately suggested they go out for the night, touting an impromptu bachelorette party for Beatrice before her eventual wedding in the morning. After a whole week of constant reminders, Ava wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die – or at least get the chance to catch her breath. Everything had come on so quickly, and she isn't sure how much more of this she can take. Unfortunately, she has no excuses for not tagging along… 

_ 'But this is for Beatrice,'  _ she tells herself, slowly trailing the group as they make their way into the first bar.  _ 'She's given so much to you over the years, has stood by you in the worst of times… you owe her at least this much.' _

Drawing on the same strength she'd mustered to defeat Adriel all those years ago, Ava plasters a smile onto her face and surges ahead. "All right, time for the party to officially start!" she announces, ushering the other four to the nearest open table. "First rounds on me! What'll it be, ladies?"

After taking orders, Ava rushes off to the bar, glad for a moment away. She rattles off their drinks for the bartender and settles onto a stool to wait, fingers tapping anxiously against the bar. Caught up in her own distraction, she hardly notices as a woman takes the seat beside her, Ava offering only a polite smile as she catches her eye.

"Are those all for you?" she asks, as the bartender slides several glasses towards Ava.

"Huh? Oh, no," she laughs, nodding her head towards their table. "I'm here with a couple of friends. We're throwing an, uh… I guess you could say last minute bachelorette party. My best friend, she's… she's getting married tomorrow…"

The woman's head tilts. "You sound disappointed?"

Ava flushes. Why was she so obvious? "For a long time, I thought we might have had something," she admits with a shrug, trying to play it off. "I didn't even know she was seeing anyone, but now she's engaged and they're getting married tomorrow. It's been a bit of a whirlwind I guess."

"Hmm… which one is she?" the woman asks curiously. She watches as Ava glances back, almost laughing at the soft, dopey grin that instantly settles across her face. "Never mind, I think I know who it is. The Asian woman?"

"Damn it, I don't even know you, and you can tell?" Ava whines, hiding her face in a hand. 

She laughs, this time aloud as she gently pries Ava's hand away from her face. "It's really not that hard to see," she replies, "You looked at her like she was the only one in the room. Which, if I'm being honest, puts a bit of a damper on my reasons for coming over…"

Ava blinks, confused. "Why? Were you–oh!  _ Oh!"  _ she chuckles, rubbing shyly at her neck. "Were you going to hit on me?"

The woman grins teasingly, "Now she gets it!" Then, more kindly she adds, "But I can see you're not in the right sort of headspace for what I had planned."

"And what did you have planned?" Ava asks. Though she had no plans of following through with this woman, that didn't mean she couldn't be curious. Just because she was still hung up on Beatrice didn't mean she had to completely deny herself exploring other options.

_ 'I'll have to move on eventually,'  _ she thinks, halfheartedly. 

"Oh, y'know…" the woman shrugs, casually. "Drinks, maybe dancing… maybe I take you home and we keep each other warm for the night."

"As tempting as that sounds, you're right… I'm not in the right headspace for that sort of thing," Ava admits, "But I appreciate the honesty!"

The woman grins, taking a pen from her bag as she swipes a napkin from the bar. Scribbling a name and number onto the sheet, she slips it into the front pocket of Ava's jacket. "Well, when you  _ are _ ready, give me a call. Maybe we can revisit this whole thing another time."

Ava blushes as the woman presses a kiss to her cheek and slips off into the crowd, watching her disappear for several lingering seconds. Shaking her head to clear any wandering thoughts, she gathers up their drinks and hurries back to the table. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to take so long," she apologizes, setting the drinks down. Everyone is eerily silent, the former cheer gone as she takes her seat between Mary and Lilith. "What's going on? What'd I miss?"

No one answers, but Ava thinks if they could somehow weaponize the way Beatrice is currently staring her down, the power of the halo would become obsolete. 

"Seriously, guys!" she tries again, bewildered by the sudden way everyone refuses to speak. "Why do you all look like you ate sour lemons?"

Mary clears her throat, reaching for her drink as she downs it in a single gulp. "Nothing! We're just really thirsty is all," she explains, smacking Lilith behind Ava's back to get her to say something to help and ease the situation. 

"Yeah, definitely!" she coughs, awkwardly. "So thirsty! I mean, not as thirsty as that woman you were talking to at the bar–"

There's the sound of glass cracking and Ava startles as Beatrice clenches her drink in a shaking fist. Leaping across the table, she snatches it from her hand before it can completely shatter, trading it for her own. "Whoa, chill Bea," she says, worriedly. "That's your left hand. Can't exactly put a ring on it tomorrow if it's covered in bandages."

The other three exchange nervous glances, their chairs scraping along the floor as they all beat a hasty retreat. Ava knows she's in trouble when none of them will look at her, mumbling excuses about going to the bathroom or needing fresh air. In seconds, it's just her and Beatrice. Alone.

_ 'Seriously, you must be punishing me for SOMETHING!' _ she cries to the Lord.  _ 'If this is how you treat your champion, I think I might start looking for a new job…' _

"Who was she?" she asks, her voice cold and even.

"I dunno," Ava shrugs, hands held up defensively. "She just came over while I was at the bar. We had a little chat, she left, and I came back."

"She kissed you–"

_ "On the cheek!" _

"–and gave you her number!" 

"Why is that such a big deal?" Ava shoots back, confused. "Why are you so mad? I know tonight is your big night… I wasn't going to do anything with her! I'm here for you, okay? Just you."

"Are you going to call her?" Beatrice presses, insistently.

"What? No! I mean… no, not  _ right now,  _ no. But… I dunno," Ava trails off, glancing away. "Maybe some other night…"

Beatrice huffs, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable!"

"Why are you so mad at me all of a sudden?" she asks, starting to grow annoyed. "Seriously, what is your problem?"

"My problem is that she hit on you and you let her!"

"So what? What does it matter to you if she does?" Ava demands, her temper finally getting the better of her. "We're not together, Beatrice! We never were! And tomorrow… tomorrow you're getting married, and I'm… I'm back to being alone…"

Her shoulders slump, defeated as she finishes quietly, "... again."

Beatrice's gaze softens, "Ava, no. That's not–"

"But that's exactly what's going to happen," she interjects, tiredly. "You promised… back at ArqTech when I was first practicing phasing through the wall. You said you guys would never leave, but… it's already happening, isn't it – has been happening for some time now. Mary has always done her own thing, Camila and Lilith have moved in together, and now you're getting married."

"What do I have left? You guys… you guys are all I have outside of the OCS. Maybe it's time I find something else…  _ someone else, _ because Lord knows I can't have you."

With a heavy sigh, Ava stands and pushes away from her seat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin tonight. I just… I can't do this right now. I have to go, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

She doesn't wait for a reply, stepping around the table to press a kiss to Beatrice's forehead. With a small smile, she waves good night to the other three as they sit huddled at another table, discarding the woman's number in the trash as she leaves. 

* * *

The following morning comes too soon, and Ava reluctantly drags herself out of bed in her room at Cat's Cradle. While the other four had retired to civilian life, Ava was still the halo bearer, and while Adriel's defeat had greatly diminished demons' ability to cross into their dimension, there were still enough sneaking through to warrant the continuation of the OCS. She and Beatrice rented an apartment together about ten minutes away, but when she had returned last night, she was hit with the realization that Beatrice would either move out to live with her new wife, or Ava would be stuck as the awkward third wheel. 

Unable to stay there alone, and unwilling to wait for Beatrice to get back from her night out, she'd packed a bag and made her way to her second home. While the wedding couldn’t be  _ officially _ Catholic, they had more than earned the right to hold it in the private chapel, and Mother Superion and their former sisters had all pitched in to help put it together. All Ava had to do that morning was get up, find a way to pass the time, and make it to the wedding without being late.

With sigh, she stares at the suit she'd hung up by the door. Beatrice had insisted she wear what was decided on back at the tailor's, stating it was easier to just order two of the same things, and that they would make a couple of color adjustments to the ties and accessories. Glancing at the clock, she knows it's only a few more hours until the wedding starts.

Deciding she didn't want to waste time wallowing in self pity, Ava changes into her training gear and grabs her sword. While most of the older nuns were roped into helping prepare the chapel, there were always new recruits eager to spar and prove themselves in a fight. 

She finds a couple of fresh faced recruits already practicing in the main training hall. It doesn't take much to egg them on, and soon enough they're lining up to take her on in a fight. Ava had been a total klutz at the beginning of her journey, but after five years of constant battle, her skills are as sharp as they come. Feeling extra bold, she even lets them practice with divinium weapons, congratulating them whenever someone actually manages to hurt her. She doesn't particularly care if she shows up covered in cuts and bruises, genuinely enjoying the process of training and teaching with the younger nuns. 

It feels nice to feel useful. 

It's a good distraction and exactly what Ava needs to forget the wedding still looming in her near future. In fact, she actually  _ does _ forget, caught up in correcting their techniques and showing them all the little tricks she had picked up along the way. It's not until a furious Camila comes storming in, dress hiked up to her ankles as she marches towards the halo bearer in the very same heels she'd attempted to throw at her not a few short days ago. 

"What are you doing?!" she shouts, as the recruits go scrambling for cover. "Hey, I'm talking to you– _ no, not you! I don't even know you!" _ she huffs, as one of the younger women pauses in front of her, clearly confused by her arrival.

"Camila? What are you–ow! Ow, ow, ow!" Ava whines as the other woman yanks her by the ear, dragging her towards the exit. 

"The wedding starts in less than an hour!" she reprimands, pulling her towards the nearest shower room. Yanking back the curtain of an empty stall, she cranks the water and shoves Ava beneath the spray, clothes and all. "You have ten minutes to wash up. If you aren't back in your room in the next fifteen minutes to get changed and fix your hair, I  _ will _ hunt you down. And you know  _ exactly _ what I'm capable of, Silva."

"Wait, but I need a tow–"

"Ten minutes!"

Ava wisely does as told, washing away the sweat and grime as quickly as she can. She's not exactly sure how she's going to get back to her room naked and unseen, deciding to phase in and out of the walls as she rushes as fast as she can back to her quarters. She definitely scars a few nuns on the way, and thankfully, Camila tosses her a towel as soon as she phases through the wall into her room. Quickly, she starts pulling on clothes. 

"Hold still," Camila sighs a few minutes later, taping a bandage to a cut on Ava's cheek. Ava sits on her bed, towel wrapped around her hair as the other woman carefully tends to her wounds. "I can't believe you let them use divinium. They're newbies! They could have screwed up and seriously hurt you…"

"Eh, they're all way better than when I first started," she replies, wincing as Camila flicks her on the forehead. 

"That's not the point," she grumbles, setting the first aid kit aside as she starts towel drying Ava's hair. Handing her a comb, she orders the younger woman to brush as she takes the hairdryer and turns the settings high, speeding along the process. They don't have much time left, so Camila quickly pulls her hair into a half-ponytail and orders Ava into the rest of her clothes. 

"It'll have to do," Camila sighs, making last minute adjustments to the suit. "It's the best I can do with you in the time allowed."

"Thanks," Ava murmurs, turning towards the mirror to take in her reflection. A bittersweet smile crosses her lips as she looks herself over. If she didn't know any better, it almost could have looked like she was dressed for her own wedding, but the sharp reminder that this is  _ Beatrice's  _ only serves to dampen her previously good mood. 

Clearing her throat, Ava offers Camila her arm. "C'mon, let's get this thing over with."

Camila smiles and pats her shoulder in sympathy, and once again Ava is glad they don't try and talk about it. All she wants right now is to survive the next few hours and then she can figure out where to go on from there. Making their way out of the main cathedral, they walk the path towards the smaller chapel on the backside of the property, her dread growing with every step closer. 

It was a small wedding, to be expected. It's not like they knew too many people outside of the OCS, and the majority of their guests were their former sisters. Ava expected to see at least a few people from the other bride's side, but was stunned to find she knew every single person there. Disengaging, Camila says she's going to check on Beatrice, leaving Ava to randomly mill about. 

She's admiring one of the flower arrangements when someone new catches her attention, heart coming to a screeching halt as she realizes that it's  _ her _ . If the matching suit wasn't enough to identify her, Ava knows the unknown woman is Beatrice's betrothed as she takes her place in front of the altar. For a time, Ava thought the other woman might be a figment of her imagination, but there she stood… living, breathing proof that Beatrice was actually getting married.

Suddenly, it all becomes too much. Ava thought she had outgrown her tendencies to run away, but it’s like all the air has been sucked out of her lungs, and the longer she stays the less she can breathe. Turning, she rushes back up the hill towards the main path and guns it for the gates, grateful to see a few cabs milling about outside the entrance. 

A driver notices her approach and rolls down his window, waving her over. Gratefully, Ava tears open the door and throws herself into the backseat, gasping for air as she slams the door shut behind her.

“You okay?” the driver asks, bewilderedly.

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m good,” she replies, taking a few, slow breaths until it finally evens out. “Sorry about that…”

“All good,” he nods, shrugging. “So, where to?”

“I don’t care,” she sighs, smoothing her hair back from her face as she straightens up in her seat. “Just drive… anywhere. Anywhere but here.”

The man eyes her attire in the rear view mirror, brow lifted in question, “You look like you’re running away from a wedding.”

“Maybe,” she answers, quietly.

“Yours?” he asks, curiously.

Ava laughs. “Nope…”

There’s a beat of silence, and then…  _ “Hers?” _

Ava barely has time to react before there’s a heavy thud against the hood of the car, her head jerking as she moves to look around the driver’s seat. She’s met with the sight of Beatrice in all her panicked glory, hands braced against the hood as she pants heavily. Ripping open the door, Ava rushes around to meet her, reaching out to help steady her.

“Jesus, Bea, did you run here?” she asks, hand pressed to the small of her back. It takes a moment for her to realize that Beatrice is in her wedding gown, and for a brief moment, Ava feels as breathless as she looks. But it only furthers as a stark reminder of what’s coming, and Ava knows she doesn’t have it in her to ruin this for the other woman. “What are you doing? The wedding is about to start! You can’t be late for your own wedding!”

“You left!” she shouts, grabbing Ava by the collar of her shirt as she shakes her in aggravation. “What was I supposed to do?”

Ava gently grabs her wrists, steadying her hands. “You’re supposed to get married without me…”

“No, you idiot! That… that would ruin everything!” Ava eyes her funnily, and Beatrice is quick to add on, “You… you promised to walk me down the aisle. Remember? I… I can’t do it with anyone else. It  _ has  _ to be you.”

Ava sighs and turns to look away, doing a quick double take at the driver as he watches them intently from the steering wheel. He gives her what she assumes is an encouraging thumbs up, and she carefully takes Beatrice by the hand and steers her back towards Cat’s Cradle. It’s silent as they make their way towards the chapel, and Ava does her best not to let them linger too long. As much as she wants more time with Beatrice, she knows her time is up.

As they near the doors, Ava shares a glance with Beatrice, and hopes its enough to convey all the things she was never brave enough to say.  _ ‘I love you. I’m proud of you. Thank you for everything you’ve given me and more. All I want is for you to be happy, and if that’s not with me… I’m okay with that. Maybe not right now, but I will be.’ _

In retrospect, Ava would come to realize the look Beatrice gives her back roughly equates to  _ ‘You’re an idiot.’ _ But at the moment, she takes it for acceptance and pushes open the doors and prepares to walk her down the aisle. Everyone stands as music begins to play, and Ava does her best to ignore the other woman waiting at the end for them.

As they reach the altar, she gives Beatrice’s hand a final squeeze and moves to make her final break away. But as she tries to take her place in the front pew, Ava finds herself unable to move, Beatrice’s hand still firmly locked with her own. Her face reddens as she realizes the music has stopped and everyone is looking at them expectantly. She flashes an apologetic smile to Beatrice’s fiancé, tugging harder as she tries to move away.

“Uhh, Bea…?” she stage whispers, laughing nervously. “You kind of need to let go…”

“You know I can’t do that,” she replies, and Ava’s heart leaps into her throat. But she doesn’t dare hope, preparing to phase through her grip just to get things moving along. It was one thing to watch the love of her life marry another woman… but to be the reason for the hold up?

“Look, Beatrice, I–”

“Just one moment,” she interrupts, stepping forward to whisper something into her fiance’s ear. The other woman grins widely and nods, stepping away from the altar as she moves off to the side. 

Ava, to be expected, is thoroughly confused. 

“What’s going on?” she asks, glancing nervously around the chapel. Everyone is watching her with wide, knowing smiles, and suddenly she feels like she’s missing something important. “Why are you all looking at me like that? Stop… it’s creepy…”

Beatrice chuckles, placing a hand to Ava’s cheek as she forces her to look at her. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she begins, thumb stroking tenderly against her skin. “I… I lied to you. I’m not getting married.”

_ “...what?” _ Ava thinks she feels the aneurysm making a comeback. 

“I’m not getting married,” she repeats, her smile tentative and shy. “Not to that woman there, at least.”

**_“What…?”_** _Yep, definitely an aneurysm._

Taking a steady breath, Beatrice locks eyes with Ava. “The only way I’m getting married today… is if it’s with you.”

“WHAT?”

Beatrice winces at the pitch, placing her other hand to Ava’s other cheek, cupping her face gently between her hands. “Okay, calm down and breathe, Ava… just breathe for me, okay? In… and out… in… and out…”

Ava does her best to follow along, trying not to freak out and hyperventilate on what is apparently now  _ her _ wedding day. “I don’t… I don’t understand. You tricked me?” (Beatrice nods) “The cake testing? The suit? All the planning?” (She nods again)

Slowly, piece by piece, the picture starts to become clear. “So… so all this time we were planning  _ our _ wedding?”

Beatrice grins and nods. “Only if you agree to it…”

Ava stares at her, still so confused but feeling her own smile grow. “I just… I don’t get it. How did you even come up with all this? How did you even decide you… you wanted to marry me?”

“That’s the funny thing,” she muses, laughing quietly. “I didn’t.  _ You _ did.”

“What? No, I didn’t,” she says, shaking her head. “This was all you!”

“Yes and no,” Beatrice explains, fondly. “Do you remember that night a year ago… in Madrid?”

It takes a moment for her to recall, Ava’s face brightening further as she suddenly remembers the details. It had been the last official mission all of them would work together before Beatrice, Camila, and Lilith officially hung up their habits. They had drunk in celebration, perhaps a  _ tad too much _ , and somehow she and Beatrice had found themselves in bed together. It was the only time in all the years they’d known each other that they let their inhibitions go, and for the sake of their friendship, swore the next morning to keep things the same between them as they’d always been.

“What  _ about  _ Madrid?” she asks, cautiously. Consciously, she’s still very much aware of everyone watching them. 

“Well…” Beatrice begins, her voice lowering so only Ava could hear, “After you  _ sullied  _ me against every surface of the hotel room, we talked about the things we would do now that the mission was over. I mean, obviously you couldn’t walk away because of the halo, but I was finally done with my duties and… and I had spent so much of my life giving myself to the supposed greater good that I hardly knew where to begin. And… and you asked me, if I could do one selfish thing just for me… what would I do?”

“I didn’t have an answer, but… when I asked you the same, you didn’t even hesitate. You said you would marry me if you could, and…” she pauses, laughing and shaking her head, “and then you got  _ so  _ embarrassed, you immediately took advantage of the mini bar and drank until you passed out and completely forgot you even said it the next morning.”

Beatrice has never lied to her before, current situation notwithstanding, and Ava has no reason to believe she’d lie about this. Although her memory of that night is certainly foggy, she remembers their… nightly activities… much more vividly before everything after becomes an indistinguishable blur. 

“... that sounds like something I would do,” she admits, sheepishly.

“I hoped maybe you would remember and reconsider our arrangement, but… time passed on, and things continued as they always did. I may have grown impatient and eventually decided to do this one selfish thing for me. I suppose the only question I have now is… will you let me?”

Ava grins cheekily. “Is this your way of asking me to marry you?”

Beatrice rolls her eyes. “That depends… are you going to say yes?”

“Mmm… you might have to remind me about the night in Madrid,” she replies.

Beatrice leans in, whispering conspiratorial into her ear, “That’s what the honeymoon is for.”

Ava laughs and pulls back, just far enough to look Beatrice fully in the face. “You really mean it? You really want to go through with this?”

“I do,” she nods, resolutely. “I really,  _ really do…” _

Ava’s smile is blinding as she takes Beatrice’s hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I do, too.”

.

.

.

_ “Do you, Ava Silva, take Teresa Beatrice Barnes to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. To love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God’s holy ordinance?” _

_ Ava’s heart nearly bursts as the minister reads them their vows, nodding enthusiastically along as Beatrice squeezes her hands between them. Locking eyes, she stares lovingly at her soon to be wife, mouth opening to speak her confirmation. _

_ But something about it tickles at the corner of her brain, her mouth closing momentarily before opening again as she asks, “Teresa?” _

_ Beatrice laughs, nodding her head. “Teresa is my birth name. Beatrice is the name I chose when I became a nun.” _

_ “... huh, you learn something new everyday,” she smiles, “Can’t believe we’ve known each other this long and I’m only hearing this now. But you’re not a nun anymore… so which do I call you?” _

_ “You can call me whatever you want,” Beatrice replies, “So long as you call me your wife.” _

_ And Ava does.  _

_ “I do.” _


End file.
